The golden cage
by mightymads
Summary: The period of the Golden Horde. A teenage Ivan accompanies his prince to the Mongol camp, where he meets Yao for the first time. Seductive!Yao/Innocent!Ivan


_Characters © Hidekaz Himaruya_

_Fic © anon from hetalia-kink at diary(dot)ru, it is a translation from Russian. Actually the fic is untitled, so I had to name it for ff._

Ivan deeply loathes it, when another prince ruffles his fair hair and says something like, "Get ready, we're going to Mongols." That means Ivan will hang about the Mongol camp again, while his prince is settling some issues with the Khan. Ivan doesn't understand why the prince takes him along. There's so much to do at home. He could plough the prince's field instead, and at least be of use.

Looks like this time will be the same. Well, it begins the same: the prince enters the Khan's tent and leaves Ivan outside. The youth stares at a Mongol girl, and she stares back at him, both speechless. Ivan knows their language a bit, but he has nothing to say.

Ivan keeps roaming about the camp until he reaches its end. There he sees a tent, which he doesn't remember from the last time. The tent is astonishingly magnificent, it is almost as big as the Khan's one.

Suddenly a little Tatar boy comes out and bows to Ivan, inviting him into the tent with a gesture.

"Masta calling," says he in broken Russian and tugs Ivan at the brim of his shirt. A bit unwillingly, Ivan obliges.

Inside the tent he sees a girl, lying on embroidered pillows. She looks not much older than Ivan himself. But she is dressed not in a womanly fashion, that is, she wears neither a sarafan, nor a Mongol dress. Her long black hair is plaited.

"What a shame!" thinks Ivan and inhales the air, which smells with some strange herbs, unknown to him.

"Take a sit," says the girl in Mongol. She speaks oddly, as if she's not a Mongol at all, the deuce knows, who she is – her garment is outlandish.

Ivan lowers himself opposite the girl, trying hard to fold his legs in a Mongol manner. The girl laughs.

"Sit properly," says she.

In two more minutes Ivan at last manages to unfold his legs.

"Have a drink," the girl gives him some shallow little plate. Ivan takes it obediently. He sees some strange liquid in it. It doesn't look like poison, so he takes a sip.

"And who are you?" asks Ivan somewhat roughly, gazing at the girl intently. She laughs merrily and begins her story. The story is rather long, and Ivan wonders if the prince is looking for him. On the other hand, it is easy to find a Russian among the Mongols, so Ivan stops worrying and enjoys the narration.

The prince calls him neither at sunset, nor later. In the morning, as Ivan wakes up in that rich tent, he asks Yao, if somebody was looking for him and gets a negative answer. Yao, what a strange name, be it for a girl or for boy. Yao turned out to be a guy after all. The Chinese sends his little servant to find out, and the Tatar boy returns with the news: the Khan granted the Russian prince a yarlyk, it means that now Ivan is to stay here, perhaps for a long time. Yao nods. He himself is a captive here, like a bird in a golden cage.

"Don't be afraid, Wan-ya," says he, running his fingers through Ivan's blond hair. "The Khan is not so evil. He won't kill you to death. As for wounds, they can be healed." Yao puts some local sweet into Ivan's mouth, his fingertips brushing the boy's lips.

Soon Ivan experiences the Khan's kindness. When he comes back to Yao's tent, he falls down on the pillows, hardly breathing. It seems to him that the Khan's lash burned his back to the core. Yao shakes his head sympathetically, the Tatar servant laughs. Ivan feels his wounds being treated with some spicy smelling ointments and covered with linen cloth. Then Yao gives him some tea – Ivan had already learnt the name of this liquid – which, according to Yao, can heal just anything.

"Now the Khan shows his strictness, he will be good after, you have to be patient, Wan-ya."

At the time being the only person kind to Ivan is Yao. But at the very thought Ivan cannot help but blush. His blush has a reason: at nights Yao sleeps by Ivan's side, hugging him. It's like a torture, but, unlike the Khan's lash, this torture is pleasant. Besides Yao would repeat that tea is the best medicine and sweetens it with a kiss: sometimes on the nose, sometimes on the ear, sometimes on the cheek and sometimes he kisses Ivan on the lips, quite shamelessly.

One evening, when Ivan feels better than usual, Yao does some really strange thing. He orders the servant to leave, puts down a subtle curtain and begins to undress himself – very slowly, he knows that Ivan's gaze is devouring him. Then he lowers himself beside Ivan and kisses the Russian on the lips. Yao's hair is loose, and Ivan winces, as a strand of black hair touches his skin: he didn't put on shirt after the Khan's lash. Then Ivan's feelings are blurred, the only thing he remembers clearly is a sharp initial pain, and a heat entering his body. Ivan even wishes that this happened earlier.

The next morning Ivan wakes up and watches Yao plaiting his black hair.

"My boy became a man," laughs the Chinese, as he notices, and hugs Ivan. "Now you are a man and a warrior, Wan-ya. Fight. Fight for your people and for yourself…"

"And you?" Ivan shakes his head and sits up, flinching with pain. "Will you be all right?"

"Don't worry about me. Remember, Wan-ya, you must save your people. Your prince have come today, and the Khan will let you go," Yao pulls away and caresses Ivan's hair affectionately. "Someday we shall meet again, you and I. More than once, believe me."

_T/N: Wan-ya is the way Yao pronounces Vanya, Ivan's pet name._

_The original fic is there www(dot)diary(dot)ru/~aph-kink/p84044644(dot)htm_


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